Hell's Advertisement
by Blueberry Blaster
Summary: Pointless one-shot. Let it be known: Never, ever destroy the beloved television of a certain Genocide Angel. T for Jo's dirty mouth.


**Hell's Advertisement**

By Blueberry Blaster

Summary: Let it be known: never, _ever_ destroy the beloved television of a certain Genocide Angel.

Disclaimer: Bakuretsu Tenshi is the property of Funimation and Gonzo studio. Any and all infringement is unintended.

* * *

Within the deserted confines of a darkened parking area, an immense trailer sat quite conspicuously in one partially-shadowed corner. A streetlamp flickered weakly, once, twice, before fizzing out permanently. The wind picked up steadily, blowing several articles of rubbish across the cracked tarmac before dying down with a gusty sigh.

The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the few immobile cars that had been abandoned by their drunken owners. Anything tangible cast a long shadow – including the two masked humans that were darting across the parking area.

They skidded to a halt in the trailer-cast shadow, the bulkier figure slamming none-too-gently against the side of the vehicle. His companion immediately shushed him, glaring pointedly from under his balaclava. Harsh words of reprimand filled the air between them, alerting a third entity to their presence.

The self-appointed Leader of the operation assessed the stainless steel door with what he assumed was a cool and calculating gaze, stroking his non-existent beard with a gloved hand. In his free hand, he held a universally-feared tool of mass destruction, background decoration and general tinkering – the crowbar.

"Hmm…" he mused quietly, "This electronically-powered lock looks quite advanced, don't you think?"

His companion, wordlessly dubbed the Mindless Pawn grunted in a mindless way. He rubbed his bulky arm absently, following the Leader's cue to stare penetratingly at the flashing lock system. He grunted again. "Maybe it's unlocked?"

The Leader scoffed disdainfully. "Of course it's locked, idiot! Who in their right minds would leave a highly sophisticated piece of locking system unlocked? They must be hiding oodles and oodles of cash behind these impenetrable steel walls." As if to demonstrate his point, he rapped his knuckles against the side of the trailer twice.

"Now stand here and guard; I shall find another point of entry," he ordered pompously, and stalked off.

And so the Mindless Pawn stood there, in front of the door, waiting.

He waited.

And he waited.

And he waited some more.

Finally growing slightly bored of his monotonous job, he yawned widely and stared up at the sky, scratching at his balaclava. He jumped in fright when the afore-mentioned third entity made it's presence known.

"Hii!"

A shockingly pale face stared back at him with a haunting expression of detachment. Blood-red eyes gleamed out at him from her angelic face, shadowed by a mop of shockingly white hair.

He fell onto his backside, even as the angelically-demonic face disappeared back over the edge of the rooftop as silently as it had appeared. His shaking hands reached for the gun tucked in his belt, one thought terrorizing his mind.

_It – it's – it's an angel from Hell come to exact judgment upon us! God-willing, save us!_

He scrambled for the only possible source of escape: the door.

Much to his surprise – and relief – the door swung open without resistance. He fell onto all fours, surprised to find himself staring into the stylish interior of the trailer. He blinked dazedly, motionless for a whole ten seconds.

"Oi! Where are you, you mindless – hey, how'd the door open?" the Leader returned, swinging his mighty crowbar as he strutted onto the scene. "Hmm… must've been when I disabled their power system! Aha! I am such a genius!"

"B-b-boss!" the Mindless Pawn stuttered fearfully, remembering what had scared him into opening the door. "Boss! Th-there's an angel just outside! On the roof! It-it looked like a zombie! Please, we must escape!"

"Pfft! Nonsense," the Leader dismissed casually, "It was probably your imagination. But - HOLY SHIT, these guys are hoarders!" He stared wide-eyed around the stylish interior of the trailer. "Alright," he stated, "time for Phase Two! You remember what that was, right?"

"Umm… steal everything not nailed down?"

"Exactly! And try to steal whatever _is_ nailed down anyway! For we have the Almighty Crowbar!"

And so the Leader and the Mindless Pawn ambled off in different directions, the latter still clutching his gun fearfully, glancing around periodically for the 'Angelically-Demonic Zombie', as he had dubbed it.

He wandered along the darkened hallway, testing each of the doors he passed quietly. The first one was locked; as was the second one. The third door was already ajar, and tentatively, he nudged it open with his firearm.

Inside, the room was completely bare save for a small wardrobe, a single bed half-covered by a rumpled bed sheet, and a chest of drawers beside said bed. A scant few articles of clothing – mainly over-sized, baggy t-shirts – littered the floor, along with a box of what he assumed were cleaning supplies.

He rooted around the room pointlessly for a few minutes before backing out, finding nothing worth stealing, and spotted the fourth and final door…

… which opened of its own accord before he had even taken a single step towards it. A girl with long red hair and the _biggest_ assets he had ever seen stepped out, yawning widely. She stopped short and stared up at him, blinking uncomprehendingly. He stared back, his gun half-pointed at the girl.

Then she screamed.

"KYAAAA! IT'S THE AXE-MURDERER RAPIST!"

The Leader came rushing back, saw the girl (still screaming), and dragged the Mindless Pawn back with him. Along the way, the two locked doors clicked and opened, and their occupants dashed out, one a pre-teen girl and the other a gorgeous curvy woman with black hair.

"Duhh… everyone put your hands up!" the Leader shouted, bringing his gun to bear on the three females, flinging his crowbar away behind him. "I mean it! Shut up and stand against the wall! Now!"

Reluctantly, the three women complied with his 'request', and stood up against either wall. The black-haired woman glared at them, but directed her question towards the little girl.

"Amy, didn't you lock the door?"

"Not yet, but Jo said she would once she came back! She must still be watching those horror flicks of hers," the little girl whined sleepily.

The woman sighed in exasperation.

"Where's Jo?" the redhead demanded. "What have you done to her?"

"Uhh… we killed her!" the Leader puffed his chest out. "Killed her, and tossed her over-board!"

The three females stared at him, silently, for about three seconds.

Then they all collapsed on each other, clutching their ribs as tears of laughter ran down their cheeks.

"Y-you? Kill Jo?" Amy repeated, gasping for breath. "That's funny, mister. You're a real comedian!" She didn't get any further than that, as a bout of silent laughter wracked her petite body.

"G-good try, mister!" the redhead stammered through her laughter, grabbing onto the black-haired woman for support. "Really, you? Kill Jo? Good one!" she shrieked with laughter.

"S-shut up!" the Leader snarled, thoroughly bewildered. "What's so funny?"

They composed themselves slightly, gasping for breath. Then they took one look at each other before collapsing again. The Leader twitched in fury.

"Shit…" he stepped forward. "Shut up, bitches!"

A resounding smack echoed through the trailer, as the redhead fell, struck about the face by the Leader's gun.

"Ow!"

"Meg!" the older woman cried out, snapped out of her amusement. "Meg, are you okay?"

The Leader smirked, finally feeling like he had regained control of the situation at last. "Good, good. Now…" he didn't get to finish, however, as a quiet, menacing voice cut through him like a knife.

"Oi. Did you hurt Meg?"

The Mindless Pawn took one look at the speaker before giving a high-pitched shriek, scrambling behind the Leader. "I-it's the Angelically-Demonic Zombie!"

A teenage girl wearing red shorts, a black tank top that exposed her toned mid-riff, and navy gloves glared back at them with gleaming red eyes. Her ruffled white hair seemed to crackle with static as she stared them down effortlessly, one gloved hand holding a gun, the other holding a portable television set.

"H-huh?" the Leader took an involuntary step backwards.

"'Cause if you did… _I'll drag you down to the depths of Hell_," her finger tightened imperceptibly on the trigger.

"Uhn… s-sh-shoot her!" the Leader cried, raising his gun. He didn't even manage to raise it halfway, as an explosion rent the air and a bullet imbedded itself into his gun-arm. He howled in pain, dropping his own weapon but not before tightening his finger on the trigger.

The bullet whizzed into the ground and ricocheted off the steel floor, angled towards Jo…

It missed her entirely. But it didn't miss the television in Jo's other hand.

The two thieves stared blankly at the ruined television. Amy stared at it. Sei stared at it. Jo raised the smoking television set to eye-level, staring blankly at the cracked and ruined screen.

Meg backed away with rising horror, forgetting about the stinging in her cheek. "J-J-Jo…" she swallowed, and shakily pulled Sei and Amy back with her.

Red eyes stared at the television.

Red eyes shifted to eye the two culprits.

Red eyes returned to the ruined television.

Jo snapped.

"**BASTARDS! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS WITH YOUR LIVES!**" Jo raged, blood-red eyes dilated in fury and burning with vengeance. The purple tattoo on her left arm glowed into existence. She flung the ruined television away, leaving her hand free to draw her second Desert Eagle. "**MARK MY WORDS, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! EAT LEAD, AND **_**WELCOME TO HELL!**_"

Twenty-six emptied magazines, seven punches, eight various objects thrown (including a crowbar), and thirty-one expletives (from Jo alone) later, two very shaken-up, bloodied, mentally-scarred, and wounded men fled from the trailer.

"**GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE DEVIL!**" Jo roared as she spent the last couple of bullets in her magazine.

Then, suddenly calm, she ejected the empty cartridges in her Desert Eagles and holstered them, moving swiftly to retrieve the abandoned television set. Then she was towering over Amy, her white hair casting half her face into shadows. The hacker swallowed nervously, and nearly jumped when a smoking television set was shoved into her face.

"Fix it," Jo said, and Amy could only nod in response.

**XxX**

**Omake**

"… yes, that's right, I'll need six squared metres of stainless steel plating, in navy blue, four ten-by-eight centimetre bulletproof windows, and also a new portable television set," Sei affirmed, rather unhappily.

She exchanged a couple more words over the phone before snapping it shut and sitting down on the couch with an explosive sigh.

After a few seconds, she glanced up at the hired mercenary sitting opposite her. "… Jo?"

Said mercenary was currently lounging on the couch, her legs propped up on the armrest while her head rested against the opposite end. "Hn?" she cracked open one eye lid.

"… never mind," Sei gave up, without even getting started. "What are you going to do if we get a job today? You've no more ammunition."

"Hn…" was the only response, which agitated the elder woman.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

"… well, I didn't get to use my bazooka on those guys last night," Jo yawned.

**END.**


End file.
